Change In Me
by StoryDiva
Summary: Set in the near future, when Greenlee finds out that she’s facing the toughest fight of her life. She ends up turning to the most unlikely of people to help her get through it. Romance ensues.
1. Smack in the Middle of the Story

Title: A Change in Me, Part One  
  
Author: Storydivagirl@hotmail.com  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of All My Children. I'm nothing but a fan of Greenlee Smythe du Pres and found myself thinking up this unlikely pairing.  
  
Summary: This is somewhat based off Greenlee's current state as town pariah, but set in the future with much angst (would Greenlee have it any other way), when Greenlee finds out that she's facing the toughest fight of her life. She ends up turning to the most unlikely of people and this is mostly going to be about their relationship through it all.  
  
Feedback: Always welcome—the good, bad, and ugly.  
  
Part One: Smack in the Middle of the Story  
  
There was one clear thought running through Greenlee's head at the moment: Boyd looked good standing there. He wasn't even doing anything. His eyes were focused on the horizon—the type of sunset that felt so close that if she reached out ohsofar, she could grab it and stuff it into her pocket—and he kicked aimlessly at nothing with his worn-out loafers. The wind ran through his blonde hair and flanked his shirt from underneath his jacket. Maybe it was all the medicine she was on or lack of sleep, hell lack of options, but that one thought was like lightening in the clear evening sky, and it made her wonder exactly when the dynamic between them had shifted. Boyd wasn't her typical choice, but these weren't exactly normal circumstances and, well, did it really matter?  
  
Boyd had more than proved himself to Greenlee over the past few months and, though she wasn't sure she'd ever admit to him, he was the first guy since Leo died that made her feel like everyone else, like normal was within her grasp. Pretty ironic given her current predicament.  
  
Boyd caught her watching him, how she didn't know. Sometimes she was sure that he had an eye in the back of his head or had some weird telepathic link to her. He lowered his head so that his chin rested on his collarbone and shot her a strange look before he asked, "What?"  
  
"I didn't say anything."  
  
"I noticed."  
  
"Aren't you usually threatening to duct tape my mouth shut? I thought you'd be reveling in the moment."  
  
He chuckled to himself, as if it was a joke Greenlee wouldn't get, and said, "You were staring."  
  
"No, I wasn't."  
  
"You were."  
  
"I was plotting," she lied. She crossed her arms off the dubious look on Boyd's face and said, "There is a subtle difference, I'll have you know. I don't stare, Boyd. I plot."  
  
"If you say so," he replied with a shrug. He took a seat on a rock near her and shoved his hands into his pockets, thankfully changing the subject, "It's getting cold out here."  
  
"I guess." Greenlee stared at Boyd for a minute, tilting her head to the side as if he was a trinket from a faraway land, before stretching her legs out on the rocks and saying, "Thank you for bringing me here."  
  
"Don't thank me. You look like a Greenlee Popsicle and I'm starting to regret sneaking you out of the hospital in order for you to commune with nature."  
  
"Boyd, do you know—"Greenlee paused. She picked up a rock and tossed it haphazardly into the water, watching the ripples it created, small waves carried off to the other side by sheer force and a bit of help from the wind. She inhaled the familiar aroma, one of those through-the-mouth-and- nostrils sort of breathes, and stated, without an inkling of emotion, "This is where Leo died."  
  
"Oh."  
  
That's all he said. She hated when he did that. She couldn't decide if it was because his face would twist into an inscrutable wasteland as he said it or the fact that after all this time (not much in the long run, but when a guy has cleaned up your vomit, it makes time almost null, Greenlee believed), she knew nothing about Boyd. He was a stranger to her in most ways—she knew nothing of his history aside from the fact that he was yet another poor schmuck drawn into Kendall's poisonous blackhole who barely made it out—but she felt comfortable with him; comfortable enough to bring him here with her. If he could read her mind, he'd say that she knew the important things: it's a sin to put pepperoni and bacon on the same pizza, Carly Simon is the Einstein of music, and Dirty Dancing is everyone's guilty pleasure.  
  
She felt her lips curl upward of their own accord. She immediately forced a frown—she couldn't be doing this. Not there of all places. She blurted out, "I don't know why I like to come here—maybe I'm masochistic."  
  
This elicited a laugh from Boyd, but upon noticing Greenlee's glare, he shrugged and said, "It was the last place you saw him. It makes sense."  
  
"Does it? Because I hate this place. I hate everything about it—from the spray of the falls right down to the stupid little cricket yelping in the background—and when I'm here, sometimes I think I hate him."  
  
"Him? Leo, you mean."  
  
She nodded. It was her turn to say nothing. Anything she could think to say wouldn't come out right anyway and the last thing she needed was to push away the only person still on her side. They say that illness made a person re-examine her lifestyle and the choices she's made. Well, Greenlee didn't know who they were, but she didn't do reassessment easily. Trips down memory lane were for insipid types that couldn't survive in the present. But, God help her, there were moments during the past six weeks where it had become all too clear to Greenlee that something was definitely wrong with her life. And not just the cancer. That was a separate entity onto itself, a person in the room at all times when she went somewhere. Greenlee and her cancer. It was why she had made the decision not to tell many people—not that there were many people to tell.  
  
This was a different kind of wrong. She had always prided herself on being able to survive on her own. She didn't need anyone—not the self-absorbed mother or the wannabe father who came into her life too late, or those few- and-far between friends that occasionally tried to get through to her—and that was the way she liked it. There was no one to disappoint that way, no one to leave you behind, and that should've been the best feeling in the world. If anything, losing Leo had reinforced that belief. So why was so worried about what Boyd thought of her?  
  
"I don't think you hate him as much as what happened to him."  
  
"Oh no, I hate him. He left me behind."  
  
"Not by choice."  
  
Greenlee scoffed, "As if that makes it better? He didn't want to die, Greenlee—suck up the comfort." Greenlee stopped herself. She didn't want to be like this, bitter and angry all the time, but it came so easily, sometimes without her even realizing it. Despite her best attempts she blurted out, "Leo died trying to save me, and for what? For this?" For emphasis, she pointed at herself. The black bags under her eyes, the skeletal, pale look, and the missing chunks of hair that gave her the air of a six-year-old that got her hands on her mother's pinking sheers. She laughed mirthlessly and went on, "Seems like a waste to me."  
  
"Do you always have to be so cynical? I've watched you the past few weeks. You're so damn stubborn, so unwilling to let anyone in, to let me help you."  
  
"Didn't I ask you to get me out of the hospital? In fact, our entire—whatever—is based on me needing help from you!"  
  
"I know. You make it clear every time we're in the same room. I'm a necessity at the moment and once your better things will change."  
  
She frowned. She almost bit his head off, resisting the urge to scream that she might not get better, but she knew not to do that. Boyd was one of those sickeningly sanguine types, never entertaining disaster for too long because it simply wasn't possible. It was one of the many things that made her skeptical of the strange bond they had forged. They were so very different—him of the crazy trust in the universe belief system and her of the much less sadistic faith-equates-to-a-kick-in-the-gut mentality.  
  
So she frowned. No words or dramatic roll of the eyes. A frown, she found, could work wonders. And it's not like she could deny what he was saying. It was true that Boyd was a necessity. She still couldn't pinpoint what made her turn to him with this illness. There were other people she could've called on. She was certain her father would've come to hold her hand no matter how strained things were between them recently. Hell, even her mother would feign concern long enough to drive her back and forth to her chemotherapy sessions.  
  
Boyd was there that night though. He was the one who had sat down on the lakeshore and listened to her talk about everything and nothing, rambling on and on until the sun started to set on the horizon. He was the one who had offered her his jacket rather than bolting the second he saw the town pariah, the girl who nearly got him five-to-ten for committing fraud with Kendall. Boyd didn't leave her there or stir uncomfortably when the tears started to fall without her permission or make some awkward gesture like patting her back as he promised things would get better. He sat there, allowing her to expunge all that she had sucked in that afternoon at the doctor's office, and finally said, "Sounds like you've had a bad day, Greenlee. How 'bout I drive you home?"  
  
That was it, and by the bad luck of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, Boyd ended up her confidante. For some reason, his name was the only one that crossed her mind when broached with the topic of help. Boyd was the not-quite-friend-yet-semi-stranger who might help her because he was nice enough but still someone she would never consider a part of her life. That somehow made her decision easier in the beginning—because vulnerability and loss of control weren't things she did well on good days and she wouldn't want any reminders of that portion of time when things were over with.  
  
It didn't hurt that there was no one else. What was she going to do when the doctor said that she couldn't go through this alone? Call her father back from his honeymoon? He probably wouldn't even come back—convinced by Erica and her daughters that it was another of her attempts to sabotage the happy family. Ryan had sworn her off at Kendall's trial, David had gone on some sort of adventure with no forwarding address, and pretty much everyone else had sworn her off except for Mia and Symone, who had their own dramas—and honestly, the idea of them holding her hand through all of this was a fate worse than cancer. Of that, she was positive.  
  
Boyd had been her only option, that much was true, but everything else between them was something she didn't have the strength to deal with yet. Greenlee stared at Boyd for a bit before replying, "I'm sorry, Boyd. I'm not good with the whole letting-myself-count-on-people thing." Greenlee stood herself up and the wind pushed her back slightly. Boyd reached out and placed his hand on her arm to steady her and she added, "Thank you. For everything."  
  
"I'm glad I could be here to help you, Lee," he replied, brushing a piece of her hair back. He smiled at her and said, "You're not a bad person, no matter what you've convinced yourself."  
  
"I think you're alone on that hypothesis."  
  
"What's important is that you learned a lesson from all the crap you've done—people make mistakes, sometimes huge ones. You've apologized and backed-off. I don't think anyone could ask anymore of you."  
  
Greenlee laughed, waving her hand in front of her face as if Boyd's presence was nothing more than a hallucination, and she questioned, more to herself than him, "Where did you come from, Boyd?" He met her gaze and it became a test of wills until she forced herself to look away. She muttered, "You're a glutton for punishment, aren't you? Always trying to save the bad girls from their own machinations."  
  
"You're the bad girl in this scenario, I take it."  
  
"You tell me."  
  
"I don't think you're as bad as you'd like people to believe. You try so hard to be tough and mean and...for what, Greenlee?" Boyd shouted. Why he was shouting, neither knew. He covered his face with his hands—evidence that she had pissed him off—and let out a loud groan. The Boyd Larraby equivalent of counting to ten. He peeked out at her through his fingers and said, "I don't believe for one second that you wanted anything bad to happen to Kendall."  
  
"I wanted Kendall to get caught—sure, I wasn't behind the whole reverend thing and I didn't want her executed, but I did my fair share of plotting against her." Greenlee patted her chest and said, "Apparently introspection is one of those sickening side effects to cancer. Better watch out, Boyd. Soon I'll be praising the Lord and donating all my money to a pet in my will."  
  
"You won't need a will. You're going to beat this."  
  
As if her body wanted to argue with him, she coughed loudly and a bead of sweat streamed down her forehead. She grimaced in pain, but said nothing until Boyd reached out and picked her up. "Put me down. I'm not a complete invalid yet." She had wanted her voice to come across much more assertive than it did. Yet another thing she felt trampled by the disease—she no longer had the energy to endure fights of any kind, wanting to curl up in her bed and sleep it all away.  
  
"If I don't get you back to the hospital, Dr. Grey will send out a search party for you. Do you want that? She's kept your illness under wraps at your request but—"  
  
"I get it. I get it," Greenlee relented. She wrapped her arms around Boyd's neck and smiled at him, "I really am thankful for you, Boyd. I don't know why you're helping me, but it means a lot. You've been there for me and I won't forget it."  
  
"I've liked the opportunity to get to know you, Greenlee."  
  
She smiled, that rare, genuine smile that he wished he saw more often, and nuzzled her head on his shoulder. She let out a small yawn and said, "You surprised me, Boyd."  
  
Boyd didn't know what to say. There were a few things running through his mind at the moment—that she had surprised him too, that she needed to have a little bit of faith in the people who loved her, that carrying her down a mountain was not his idea of a good time, and most importantly, that he cared about her more than he thought possible and wouldn't let her give up. He couldn't. He needed her and their evenings of action movies (Greenlee's choice, citing that she'd "rather watch someone die in an over- the-top explosion sequence rather than a slow demise to illness ala Julia Roberts in Steel Magnolias.") and reality television. He found that with Greenlee talking wasn't always necessary—one look from her and the two of them would start to laugh, unable to stop for about twenty minutes and garnering the strange glares from passersby.  
  
They were an unlikely match, but weren't most.  
  
He didn't say that though. It wasn't the right time and he wasn't even sure how to say something of that magnitude. Instead, he focused on the Honda Civic a hundred or so yards away and complained, "It was your insane plan to come out here and I end up doing the manual labor. Can't say I'm shocked." He nudged her when she didn't respond and when she still didn't say anything he said, "Lee, I need to put you down to open the door."  
  
He managed to get the door open despite his claims otherwise and once he had her seated, he shook her gently, "Hey sleeping beauty?"  
  
Her neck slid down until her chin was resting on her chest. He shook her again, sure that this was some warped idea of a joke on Greenlee's part, but after a few more seconds of her non-responsive behavior, he knew that something was wrong.  
  
Something was horribly wrong. 


	2. hospitals kill the mood

Title: A Change in Me, Part Two  
  
Author: Storydivagirl@hotmail.com  
  
Updates: For knowledge aside from the fanfiction.net notices, you can join my yahoo group by emailing: whiteroom-subscribe@yahoogroups.com  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of All My Children. I'm nothing but a fan of Greenlee Smythe du Pres and found myself thinking up this unlikely pairing.  
  
Summary: This is somewhat based off Greenlee's current state as town pariah, but set in the future with much angst (would Greenlee have it any other way), when Greenlee finds out that she's facing the toughest fight of her life. She ends up turning to the most unlikely of people and this is mostly going to be about their relationship through it all.  
  
Feedback: Always welcome—the good, bad, and ugly.  
  
Part Two: Hospitals Kill the Mood  
  
If someone had told Boyd a few months ago that his feelings for Greenlee du Pres could be anything more than those of dislike from afar for someone he barely knew, he would've laughed it off. He would've talked at length about how he learned his lesson after the Kendall debacle and avoided situations where women tried to take advantage of him. Nevertheless, Greenlee had surprised him. Literally. Appearing from behind a group of rocks on the beach and making an inappropriate comment. He wasn't sure why he hadn't stormed off. He vaguely remembered planning to, but when he got a good look at her disheveled appearance, he couldn't bring himself to leave without attempting to help her.  
  
That one choice had changed everything for him. Greenlee referred to it as "good guy syndrome" and now, here he was, once again thinking that nice guys really did finish last.  
  
Boyd paced outside her room, berating himself for agreeing to Greenlee's stupid plan while he waited for the doctor to let him see her. This felt wrong. He needed to be in there with her. He'd been there for everything else and now, when she needed him most, he wasn't allowed into her room. Some lame story about not being family—he was more family to her than anyone else was. Boyd was the one who held her hand when the after effects of the chemotherapy took over. He was the one who sat next to her when the doctor explained that she wasn't responding as well to treatment as they hoped and that they were going to have to take a more aggressive course of action. He was the one that made sure she didn't give up or stop fighting.  
  
He almost didn't notice Mia rush at him, lost in the "what if's" of this current turn for the worse, but caught her right as she threw herself into his arms for a quick hug. She looked frazzled, like she had rushed out the second he had called her, and that actually made him feel a bit better. Boyd had been struggling for so long to keep this under wraps, resisting the urge to contact Greenlee's father and abide by her wishes, and was relieved when Mia figured things out. Greenlee had sworn her to secrecy as well—so scared to let anyone see her as fragile as the rest of them—but at least Boyd was no longer alone in his knowledge. Whoever said, "knowledge was power" had never been swept up in circumstances beyond his control.  
  
"How is she?" Mia asked, loosening her scarf and slipping out of her coat. She motioned to the doors that separated them from Greenlee and added, "She was doing better the last time I visited. How did this happen?"  
  
Boyd sighed and answered, "She was doing better, but she decided to take a road trip and it ended up worsening her condition."  
  
"What the hell was she thinking? And how did she get out of here without anyone noticing?" Mia questioned.  
  
"I helped her."  
  
"What?"  
  
"She asked for my help and you know I—"  
  
"Why would you do that? She needed to be here, Boyd."  
  
"Both she and the doctors said she was doing better. She swore she would let me know the minute she felt the slightest bit exhausted."  
  
"Obviously that worked," Mia snapped.  
  
Boyd couldn't take it anymore and snapped right back, "How the hell would you know, Mia? It's not as though you've witnessed the worst of this. You leave as soon as things get bad—you're not with her all the time. Greenlee doesn't want to die in a hospital. She's repeated that over and over to me—"  
  
"She's not going to die."  
  
"How do you know that, Mia? You've only had to deal with this news for a few weeks—I've been helping her with this since she found out. You haven't seen her at her worst or witnessed the fear she tries to hide. She asked me to get her out of the hospital for a few hours so that she could think and feel normal again. I thought it would help her, remind her why she was fighting so hard. I don't know, maybe it was a bad idea, but you of all people should know that you can't talk Greenlee out of something once she's got her mind set on it. She would've gone with or without me. I thought that if I was there, I could make sure she was okay."  
  
Mia fell into one of the plastic chairs that lined the wall. She let out a loud breath, the hissing sound of a balloon deflating after being pricked, and replied, "You're right, okay? About all of it and I'm sorry, but—she's in trouble, Boyd, and you and I aren't equipped to make some of the decisions that are coming."  
  
"I know."  
  
"You know? What do you plan to do about it?" Mia asked. She stared at him, waiting for a response, but when he said nothing, she went on, "Her father is back in town now. Sooner or later he's going to figure this out and he deserves to be there for her."  
  
"Isn't that her decision to make?"  
  
"I don't think it is anymore," Mia replied. Boyd sat down next to her and Mia intertwined her hand with his. She said, "We both know that part of the reason Greenlee hasn't told anyone is because she's secretly scared that no one will care."  
  
"Can you blame her? Prior to the diagnosis, almost everyone in town, including me, disliked her. She never had anyone when she was growing up who told her that you could love someone even when she made mistakes. She grew up without anyone around to forgive her or help her through things, Mia. She thinks she's alone and I can't force her to accept something she's had no experience with."  
  
Mia shook her head and countered, "I understand that and I've witnessed it first hand from Greenlee since we've become friends, but--she's got to know that she's not alone in this, Boyd. People care about her. People love her. And—and there is only so much that you and I can do for her if things get any worse."  
  
Before Boyd could respond, Dr. Grey stepped out of the room. Boyd jumped out of his seat and managed to catch a glimpse of Greenlee laying there unconscious as the door swung back-and-forth. She looked so different when she was asleep. It was something he had studied a few times—how all the walls and masks disappeared and it was just her. He had caught glimpses of it throughout the course of the past two months, but she never maintained it for long.  
  
"How's she doing, Maria?" Mia asked.  
  
"She's fallen into a coma. Her immune system has shut itself down, probably a combination of the chemotherapy, pneumonia, and exhaustion all compounding one another. Right now, we have her on massive doses of antibiotics and our first priority is to get the pneumonia under control."  
  
"What about her treatments? She recently started a more aggressive set." Boyd replied. He was amazed that he was able to say anything coherently when his mind was still caught up on the word "coma."  
  
Maria frowned, not a good sign, and said, "Her doctors can't do anything about the cancer until she's out of the coma. Once she wakes up and the pneumonia is under control, they can reschedule her treatment sessions."  
  
"But that could—"Mia's voice lingered off, unable to finish the sentence.  
  
Boyd closed his eyes against the negative thoughts running through his mind, knowing full-well that the same thoughts were crossing Mia and Maria's minds as well. He forced out, finishing Mia's thought, "That could be bad."  
  
Maria stated, "It's true. It's—Greenlee is a friend of mine so it's hard for me to be objective here..."  
  
When Maria didn't finish her sentence, Boyd prompted her, "But?"  
  
"If this was any other case, taking into consideration how aggressive the cancer has gotten and the fact that her treatments have been postponed, I would tell the family to prepare for the worst," Maria replied. She placed her hand on Boyd's arm and added, "If you need help contacting people—"  
  
"Greenlee and I have a procedure in place for this already."  
  
"She's lucky to have the two of you," Maria replied. She looked from Boyd to Mia and back before she said, "The one thing I've learned as a doctor is that not every case works out the same way. This could be Greenlee's way of preparing herself for the remainder of her fight."  
  
Mia nodded. Boyd tried to believe that, but he wasn't so sure. Neither Maria nor Mia had seen her at the falls. She seemed so defeated. Boyd forced out, "Thank you for all your help, Maria. You're one of the few people Greenlee trusts with this."  
  
Maria smiled sympathetically and said, "I think it's time we let the others into the loop as well. As much as I dislike David, he's her family and a brilliant doctor. He might know of some treatments that we aren't aware of."  
  
"I guess."  
  
Maria squeezed Boyd's shoulder and said, "Having more people around that she can count on can only alleviate some of the stress she's feeling and I'm sure it would help you too."  
  
"I don't mind—"  
  
Maria cut him off, "It's something to think about."  
  
Boyd kept his face neutral, unwilling to admit to anything until he had time to process what had happened. He and Greenlee had talked about this and she decided that she would trust him to make the right decision for her if the time ever came when she was unable to do it for herself. It was a conversation he had tried to avoid—too depressing by nature, especially when the reality of it was all around him—but he had stopped by her loft when she was in the midst of preparing letters for people. She called it her attempts at "maudlin trips down memory lane to make her feel less guilty for certain things she had done in her life."  
  
Mia motioned to the room and asked, "Can we see her now?"  
  
Maria nodded, "One at a time—we don't want to overwhelm her, but I think the two of you will be good for her."  
  
Mia pushed her hand into Boyd's back and said, "Go ahead."  
  
Boyd nodded and said, "Thanks for all you've done for her, Maria."  
  
"Greenlee was there for me when Edmund was hurt—I barely knew her, but she took it upon herself to offer her assistance. I haven't forgotten that."  
  
"Yeah, sometimes she surprises you," Mia replied with a smile. She once again pushed Boyd toward the door and said, "Tell her that we all love her and that we're waiting for her to wake up and comment on how pathetic we all were to worry."  
  
Boyd smiled. Mia was right. When this was over, Greenlee was going to mock him for overreacting. She would say something like, "I leave you to your own machinations for five minutes and suddenly we're performing group prayers over my bed?" He opened the door and stepped cautiously into the room. The sound of a heart monitor mixed with the respirator into a funky sort of beat and it lulled him into a strange calm. The noises echoing through the room meant she was still with them.  
  
Greenlee was still one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen—not only her looks, which were unarguably amazing, but also the energy she exuded, even from a hospital bed. There was something about her that made it impossible to walk away. As he watched her chest rise and fall in synch with the machines, he decided that it was because of Victoria. She looked like a doll his sister used to own named Victoria. Both Greenlee and the doll shared the same pale, porcelain look with the big brown eyes and long eyelashes that curled at the edges, and he remembered how his sister used to say to him, "Careful with Victoria, Boyd, she breaks easy."  
  
She breaks easy.  
  
Boyd pulled a seat up next to the bed and took her hand in his. It was strange how nicely their hands fit together. He had noticed it once before, but refrained from saying anything, scared of what it meant, but now, it was all he could think about. It was the pink elephant in the room with the two of them. He brushed his lips against her palm, smooth and soft to the touch like satin sheets, and whispered, "It's time, Lee."  
  
Greenlee remained motionless. Boyd wasn't sure what he expected—that his voice would magically awaken her like she was some fairytale princess playing opposite his knight-in-shining-armor?—but when she didn't stir, he squeezed her hand and continued talking, "You keep coming up with excuses to keep your sickness a secret, but it's not working. It seems I'm not enough to help you anymore."  
  
He moved his hand up to her face and caressed her cheek. He glanced out the door where he could see Mia watching him intently. He cleared his throat and said, "You took me by surprise, you know. We keep not talking about it—how close we've gotten—playing it off like it's another side effect of you being sick. I don't think that's all there is to it anymore, Lee. I think I found you on the beach that night for a reason. I think we were meant to help each other." He brushed her hair back and fought against the pain attempting to unleash itself. He croaked out, "It's time to wake up now. We still have things to do. Remember how you said you wanted to bungee jump off a mountain in New Zealand? I'd pay good money to see that..."  
  
Boyd cleared his throat, but the longer he tried to articulate a lucid statement, it became more and more impossible. Words were like rocks resting in his throat, making him dizzy and unable to breathe. He stood up, leaned over, pressing his lips against her forehead—so warm, too warm, he thought—and made a quick exit from the room.  
  
Never in his life did he remember fearing for someone so much and he wondered what was wrong with him. Why had he allowed her to grow so important to him when there was a chance he could lose out in the end? Why did he continuously set himself up for a fall? Then he remembered that he hadn't planned to care for her. That was something that happened of its own accord. It started out as pity, something he would've done for anyone, and somehow metamorphosed itself into friendship before finally settling into whatever-this-feeling-in-his-chest-was the better he grew to know her.  
  
Boyd searched the waiting area for Mia, locating her sprawled out over the length of orange chairs in the back corner. Her arms curled around her jacket and her head tilted ever so slightly to the side as she slept. Boyd almost regretted having to wake her, but nudged her leg all the same. Mia stirred and her eyes fluttered opened. She looked up at Boyd expectantly. When he shook his head, she sighed, rubbing her eyes, and offered, "Maybe it's like Maria said—she's exhausted and this is Greenlee's way of recharging before coming back to fight the rest of the battle."  
  
She sat herself up, patting a seat next to her for Boyd to sit in, and stretched her arms over her head. A small groan escaped and she stated, "Remind me never to fall asleep on these chairs again. I'm going to be a permanent fixture at the chiropractor. Let it not go without saying that Greenlee lives to torture those she loves." Off the unyieldingly serious and far-away expression on Boyd's face, Mia added, "I hoped to elicit a laugh there, or at the very least, a small smile."  
  
Boyd forced a small smile and said, "I'm sorry. My mind is elsewhere."  
  
"On Greenlee."  
  
"Yes, and what I have to do," Boyd replied. He focused his eyes on the floor and kicked at his shadow. He felt incredibly useless at the moment and the only thing he had to do was the one thing he didn't want to face.  
  
"If you're worried about leaving her, I promise to stay in there with her until you get back. I don't care if the nurses try to make me leave—I'll shackle myself to the bed." Boyd laughed and Mia smiled triumphantly, "Finally. A smile."  
  
"Yeah, well, I was picturing the look on Greenlee's face when she wakes up to find you handcuffed to her bed."  
  
"Disappointment that it isn't you?" Boyd tried to make like he didn't hear what Mia had said. He kept his eyes focused on the ground and tried not to make how his shoulders tightened obvious. "I'm neither blind nor stupid, Boyd. I see the way the two of you look each other—"  
  
"We don't—"  
  
"I've seen the person Greenlee becomes when she's around you," Mia leaned in as if to expel ancient wisdom and went on, "Between you and me, she's a helluva lot nicer now and I'm pretty sure the entire town is thankful for that."  
  
Boyd replied, "That's all her, Mia. It was there all along...she just needed a reason to bring it out, I guess. Maybe realizing how fragile life is..."  
  
"Save that old spiel for someone else, Boyd. I'm not butting my nose into whatever is going on with the two of you, except to say, you're good for her."  
  
"She's good for me too."  
  
"As it should be."  
  
"And now I have to keep a promise I made her."  
  
Mia met his gaze and sighed, "By talking to Jackson?"  
  
Boyd nodded and repeated, "By talking to Jackson." 


End file.
